The BCS is looking for a few good men and women. Football expertise is a must, and it would help if they didn’t mind being referred to as a “corpse.”

The job is selecting four teams for college football’s playoff system. It will begin after next season, and BCS commissioners laid out the framework this week.

The poisoned oak trees at Toomer's Corner in Auburn are proof of how fanatical college football fans can be. An Alabama fan is accused of poisoning them. (AP Photo)

There will be 14-20 members, with one representative from each of the 10 FBS conferences. Then it’s a casting call.

“We want people that know the game and understand the game, that have wisdom, integrity and respect,” BCS executive director Bill Hancock said. “We’re confident those people are out there.”

Sure, but ESPN is paying only $5 billion to televise the playoffs. Is that enough to lure an entire selection committee?

Picking four playoff finalists will be the best and worst job in America. It offers the prestige and influence of the U.S. Supreme Court, and you don't have write all those boring opinions.

The downside is your opinion will be sliced and diced by millions of Americans. And you may be, too.

I don’t want to overstate things, since 99.94 percent of college football fans are not certifiably insane. They may want to be buried in official Ohio State or Notre Dame caskets. But who among us doesn’t?

It’s that special sliver of lunacy I worry about. Like Harvey Updike, the Alabama fan who poisoned Auburn’s famed Toomer’s Corner oak trees. If committee members get it wrong, they may look out their front window one morning and see their yards have turned into the Mojave Desert.

The thing is, they can’t help but get it wrong. No matter how much wisdom, integrity and respect the committee applies, at least one team is going to feel unfairly shafted. And hell hath no fury like a college football fan scorned.

You should see the profane rants that come when you don’t cast a Heisman ballot the preferred way. And what does that really matter? It’s a mythical award decided by 928 people.

The playoffs will be a life-altering proposition decided by 14-20 brave souls. What’s their fan firewall?

He was joking, though I couldn’t help having “Goodfellas” flashbacks. After years of leading a wild, wise-guy life, Henry Hill ended up in a modest house in cookie-cutter subdivision with a completely new identity.

“Now I get to live the rest of my life like a schnook,” he said.

The real Henry Hill eventually left the witness protection program and started a website. It was flooded with threats like “Regarding your corpse goodbye rat.”

And all he did was turn on the mob. BCS scrutiny will be far worse than the NCAA basketball tournament selection committee faces. It holes up in hotel for a long weekend and rounds out a 68-team field.

Even then, if it seeds a team No. 2 in the East instead of No. 3 in the South, Dick Vitale is likely to have an aneurysm on live TV. This will be 10,000 times worse.

There’s no way four football teams will clearly align in a tidy fashion. This past year, Notre Dame and Alabama would have been obvious choices. Then who?

Florida? Georgia? Oregon? Kansas State?

Texas A&M with Johnny Manziel was playing better than any of them.

It’s the same dilemma every year. Only now, instead of blaming six computers, 59 coaches or the Harris Interactive Poll for perceived injustice, fans will have a tidy list of targets.

Ex-coaches like Bobby Bowden, John Cooper and R.C. Slocum have already expressed interest. Good for them, but imagine if Michigan barely misses getting a bid. The entire state will want to subpoena Cooper’s notes and have him explain why his oak trees shouldn’t be poisoned.

“We want experienced football purists, experts, “ Hancock said.

If you think you qualify, please contact BCS headquarters. Then be prepared to live the rest of your life like a schnook.